Cycle
by Vashagud
Summary: She felt like she hadn’t seen his face in an eternity, just his stomach, legs and feet. Maybe sometimes his elbows. That damn bike was his face. Cloti.


Tifa made her way downstairs, lemonade in hand. She could already hear him and his _tools,_ doing whatever it was he did with them. She found herself stopping on the last stair and combing frantically through her hair with her fingers. She didn't even notice she was doing it. Squaring her shoulders she pushed the door open and slid inside, trying to ignore the stale, irony tinge in the air.

She ran her teeth over her tongue, frowning. No, it was definitely more than a _tinge_. She watched the bottoms of his boots for a while and listened to him _do stuff_.

"You want something to drink?" She watched his legs jump, and absolutely didn't take any pleasure out of hearing him bump his head. Really.

"No." He didn't even bother to come out from under his bike. His hands were busy fooling around again and she leaned against the wall, wiping the sweat from her forehead and watching the red summer sun die through the dirty window. Pushing herself form the wall, she downed his lemonade and closed the door behind her.

Again late afternoon came and his noise started up again. She felt like she hadn't seen his face in an eternity, just his stomach, legs and feet. Maybe sometimes his elbows. That damn bike _was_ his face.

She had orange juice this time, with ice cubes. She combed through her hair and stepped inside.

"You must be thirsty." She held the glass to her head.

"I'm fine." Tifa ground her teeth. He continued to work, and each little cling clang hit a nerve. The heat, it had to be the heat getting her so bothered. She rolled her eyes.

"It's _hot_." His arms went to rest at his sides for a bit, his fingers tapping as if he were annoyed. She watched as one arm disappeared under the bike and was completely dazed when his shirt landed beside the bike, sheer with sweat and grey with soot...oil..or whatever the hell he was messing with.

"No it's not." He said cooly. The view was better now, but that wasn't the point. She caught the curve of the sun slipping behind the trees and downed his orange juice.

Tifa descended the stairs yet again, his glass slippery in her hands. This time she didn't bother with the bracing or the hair. She just barged in.

"You're thirsty." It wasn't a question. He continued working. She looked at the water in her hands. No extra sugar in the lemonade, no ice in the orange juice, just water from the tap.

"I'm fine." Tifa tapped her foot, staring at his legs.

"Have some water." she spoke to his legs.

"Tifa-"

"What are you doing under there anyway?" _Collecting sap?_

"Working." Tifa spilled some water.

"Oh." Tifa frowned and turned to the window, glass at her lips. Obviously this was a lost cause.

"You want to help?" Tifa jumped, lowering the glass and turning towards the bike. But to her surprise he wasn't under it. He watched her from across the room, hair not so blonde, face not so white. She tried not to glare at him too hard.

"No, not really." He got this very strange look in his eyes.

"Because if you wanted to help, I have the tools."

"That's okay." she frowned. His eyes were bright through the dirt and grease, a sharp clean, blue.

"If you want to help you can just say so-"

"Cloud, I don't want to work on your bike okay?" She wondered when he would outgrow his naivete. This whole charade just to help him fool around with his bike. Right. Cloud looked a bit smug, but she didn't know why.

"Tifa." she went over to him, taking in his face so she could keep it for a while. He was still smirking. "Is there something you want?" he asked. Tifa blinked a couple of times and sputtered.

"No, just...thought you might be thirsty." He nodded slowly.

"Alright." Tifa took a breath and began to walk away. Well, she_ did_ see his face.

"Hey Tifa, you forgot something." she went over to him again. She wasn't sure what he was doing when he raised his hand an let it rest against the side of her head, until she felt his fingers comb through her hair. She stared at him.

That bastard. That bastard knew all along.

"You thirsty?" she asked in a shaky breath. He removed his hand and shook his head.

"No." she watched him slip under the bike. Sighing, she watched the stars break through and downed the water, leaving the door open behind her.


End file.
